


i got 87 problems (but a chicken ain't one)

by bellamouse16, flyersgiroux, hischiers, matutine, thotnumber91



Series: sundays are for the boys [1]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Crocs, Grilled Cheese, M/M, Mullets, Other, average dick gang (only member: tyler seguin), bringing a new meaning to hit em with the 4, chicken in his ass sundays, crack (not treated seriously!), don't know where it came from but it's there, how many nicknames does connor mcdavid have, mats has got the ZUCC, mentions of dairy queen, nobody in the nhl can read, thanks auston, the return of ryan nugent-hopkins (witch), tyler seguin HATES spaghetti, you already know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 03:35:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17994104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellamouse16/pseuds/bellamouse16, https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyersgiroux/pseuds/flyersgiroux, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hischiers/pseuds/hischiers, https://archiveofourown.org/users/matutine/pseuds/matutine, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thotnumber91/pseuds/thotnumber91
Summary: it's sunday. you know what that means.(alternately titled: thank you, next (chicken))





	i got 87 problems (but a chicken ain't one)

**Author's Note:**

> VERY brief mention of patrick k*ne but it's only because he drops dead. enjoy :-)

“Chicken in Sid’s ass.” Geno said, lustfully, as he placed another chicken in. Sidney’s toes tightened in his crocs as the sensation spread throughout him.

“How many do you think we can fit?”

“Maybe 87… plus a few bowling pins.” Sidney bawked.

“We might need some help,” Geno said.

*connor mcdavid enters the chat*

“The chicken master _has arrived, Mr. Crosby_ ,” he said.

 _Thank god,_ Sid thought.  McDavid was the best person, second to Geno, that Sid would ever want to shove chickens up his ass.

“I hope you don’t mind….” Connor starts, “I brought a friend..” Sidney risks a glance behind McJesus to see Auston Matthews, holding not one, not two, not three, but _four_ fat, juicy chickens.

“You only brought four?” Mcjesus asked Autson.

“How are we supposed to fit 87 if you only bring 4?” Sidney complained.  It _had_ to be 87. Everything has to fit to his superstitions, or he might explode.

Ryan Nugent-Hopkins appears, his magic hockey stick in hand, and summons the 83 other chickens.

Nuge looked at the scene before him and muttered, “We’re going to need a lot more hands.” With that, he magically made more players appear.  He hoped they would be okay with shoving chickens up Sid’s ass.

“AWE SWEET” Travis Konecny yells loudly. “Chickens are my freaking JAM. Lets get shoving fellas.” And with that, he grabbed a handful of chickens and made his way towards Sidney.

Nolan Patrick watched Travis wearily.

“We’re not killing them, TK. Just shoving them up Sid’s ass.”

“When did I ever say we were  _ killing  _ chickens?”

“I don’t know Travis, but… actually Sidney’s ass is SO fat… they might suffocate anyways…” Nolan ponders. 

_ “Then that’s just a risk we’ll have to take.” _

Tyler Seguin and Jamie Benn poofed into the room as Travis continued to try and prove to Nolan he could gently shove the chickens in.

Jamie glances around at everyone around him… elated with the  _ lack  _ of bunchable mox. The only thing he ate was ass, and Tyler knew that intimately.  But Tyler’s ass was nowhere near as voluptuous as SC87’s. No chicken would even fit in his inverted buttocks. ”Uhhh….” Jamie moo-ed, “Are we prepping him first or uhh… just shoving the chickens in?”

“Sid doesn’t need any preppin. We’re using my cum,” Geno said as several chickens squawk from the vicinity of Sid’s ass.

“...we might need more than just  _ your _ cum for all these chickens,” Tyler observed. “This is more than just your typical stuffing.” 

“Yeah, I agree.” Tyson Barrie says, then spits thickly and directly on Sidney’s cake. 

Tyler gripped his average sized dick, ready to jerk off and onto Geno’s cum.

“Should we be cumming, too?” Nolan asks, staring at Tyler’s almost too eager willingness to jerk off to Sidney Crosby’s chicken-stuffed ass.  “Would that help save the chicken’s lives?”

“Dude, I don’t know.” Travis responds. “Though, I don’t know if I can cum to the sight of a Pen. That’s traitorous, isn’t it?”

”Everybody just get their  dicks  out,” Tyler said. “The more the merrier.” He was glad to see he wasn’t the only one with an average dick.

In the corner of the room, seemingly separated from the current events, Koochie Raw sat, eyes glowing and visibly vibrating as he leaks raw power. 

Koochie was disappointed because it really wouldn't be raw with all that cum as lube.

“WAIT!” Brad Marchand says, barging through the already open door. “I have rats!”

“Nobody wants your dumb rats you licker!” Torey Krug says, and then leaves.

“Who even even invited you,”Jamie Benn said. He was never a fan of the licking pest.

“It has to be 87  _ chickens _ !” Sid shouts. “No more, no less!”

“Wait! But we might need you to lick some of these chickens and slick them up!” Patrice called out, hoping it would include his sweet Bradley.  

Brad smiled at Patrice greatly. He would always be the captain in his dreams.

“𝓐𝓨 𝓓𝓞𝓖 𝓦𝓗𝓞 𝓘𝓢 𝓡𝓔𝓐𝓓𝓨 𝓕𝓞𝓡 𝓣𝓗𝓔 𝓟𝓞𝓦𝓔𝓡 𝓞𝓕 𝓣𝓗𝓔 𝓩𝓤𝓒𝓒” Mats Zuccarello said, crashing his boeing 747 plane straight into Sidney Crosby’s bedroom. 

“Zucc, you’re injured! Are you sure you can handle shoving chickens into Crosby’s ass?” Jamie Benn asked, as a concerned captain should. 

“𝕆𝔽 ℂ𝕆𝕌ℝ𝕊𝔼 𝕀 ℂ𝔸ℕ! 𝕀 𝔸𝕄 ℤ𝕌ℂℂ” Zucc says. 

“He does have  _ TWO _ arms. He can handle it,” Tyler exclaimed. “And Jamie, stop worrying and get your dick out. We need your sweet milk.” 

Ryan Nugent Hopkins breaks out his magic wand and begins to chant: “Z̴͛̋́̄͜Ȗ̴̡̙̦̂̌͋̇͝C̷͖̦̺̝͊͆̀̓͜͝C̸͔̆̈̒͑̎!̴̫͉̠͔ ̵͖͋̔Z̴̢̤͠Ư̷̫̱̘͊̀̔̇͋̊̕C̷̳̙͓͔̔C̶̮͉͔͗!̸̨͎̘̣̦̲̰̪͙̃͋͆͊̉͑̕͘ ̴̯̬̠͖̜̔̿̐̍̓͒̉̏̽͝Z̷̨͕̲͓̤̲̩̹̈́̓͋ͅU̷̟̝̰̼̙͊̑̈́̆̌̊̅͑̚C̴̠̼̞͖̬̬͇̹̎̋̾͐̑̓̚C̸̱͕̩͚̣̰̖̦̋̅͝!̷̨̨̞͍̥̗̫͕̺̭̅̃͂̿͂̕͝” and suddenly Mats is flying around like a ceiling fan in the middle of the room, arm completely healed. 

“Uhhh...is this better or worse to have him...uhhh...flying like...that?” Jamie asks.

“I don’t want to get cum on my hair,” Tyler whined. “But it seems like Nuge just does what he wants. I respect that.”  

“What’s taking so long?” Crosby cried, “My ass is clenching because it needs its chickens!”

“Wow, Crosby whining, what a surprise,” Nolan deadpanned as he grabbed a chicken and shoved it in to shut this man up. It only made Sid moan, so it really didn’t do the job.

“Here bro, let me help you out with that tension.” Zach Werenski says, taking a phat Juul rip and blowing it right into Sidney’s asshole. “Nice. 420.”

Pierre-Luc Dubois walked in, but looked at them forlorn.

“Sorry, but my nails were just painted by Savard’s daughter,” he said, waving a hand of pink nails. “I’ll just have to root you guys on from here.”

“G-MONEY!!!!” Nolan Patrick yells as he sees his captain ride his way into the room on a pink razor scooter, followed by Gritty - because where Giroux goes, Gritty follows - and his fellow mascots, Victor E. Green and Iceburgh.  He had thought of bringing his fellow Philadelphian, the Fanatic, but they were on a break right now. As it was, he wasn’t quite sure of Victor. He still couldn’t believe the two of them would cheat on him like that... But shoving chickens into Sidney Crosby’s ass was bound to cheer him up. 

Gritty opened up his mascot suit, and out fell exactly 87 chickens. “𝖆𝖒 𝖎 𝖙𝖔𝖔 𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖊?” he said. 

_ “You’re just in time, Gritty.”  _

Sid looked up with wide eyes.

“But it can’t be more than 87!  _ Promise  _ me Geno, you won’t let in more than 87.”

“I promise Sid. Not more than 87 in that gorgeous ass.”

“Alright!” Jonny Toews said, standing up, his old bones crackalackin. “I’m gonna go grab some carrot smoothies- who wants one?”

Marc Andre Fleury walked in, with Kris Letang (dripping in sauce) following after him.  Fleury was carrying a large inflatable… donut.

“ARE THOSE CARBOHYDRATES? IN MY BEDROOM?” Sidney roared, before Geno shushed him, and assured him the donut was indeed not real. Everyone knew the only thing close to carbs to come near Sidney were either cheesecakes, his 5 p.m. pb&j, or Geno’s cum after he’d eaten some carbs.  Sidney liked to think that wouldn’t count as cheating.

Giroux did his best to hide the grilled cheeses he brought along for a post-ass-stuffing snack. He already wasn’t sure why he was here to help out his rival, but if the man’s stupid, rigid rules took away his one true love? Sidney would pay.

Johnny Gaudreau was already eyeing Claude’s sandwiches though. Everyone knew Johnny Hockey loved a good sandwich.  He’d just need to convince Sean Monahan or Matthew Tkachuk to help him get them. As boring as Sean was, he knew he’d agree to do anything he asked. He might need to bribe Chucky, but he was sure the thought of annoying someone would be enough.

“Aren’t chickens a carb?” Tyler whispered at Jamie. 

“No, they are protein, you dumb thot,” Jamie replied, unsurprised at his boyfriend’s stupidity. 

Tyler was sure he’d read somewhere that chickens were a carb, but what did he know.  He only knew half a language. He must be going insane, he thought, because he suddenly remembered that of course- he didn’t know how to read, just like every other hockey player on the Dallas Stars roster. Readers got traded, and he didn’t want to go through that again. What people didn’t know was that the Stars were kind of like the Flames. They needed to trade anyone vaguely smart. No reading and no museums here.

“Let’s get those babies, I mean chickens, in!” shouted Mitch Marner as he came in, dragging his new daddy, John Tavares. John takes off his pajamas- “we  _ won’t  _ be needing these.”

“Nobody mentioned there would be snakes here!” Tyler screamed. Snakes were his biggest fear, right behind not being able to fish in the off season or Tiger Woods dying.

“I thought you said they were only bedsheets!” Mat Barzal exclaimed, feeling extremely betrayed by the man who “forgot” his name.  He really wouldn’t be cheering for him anytime soon. Luckily for him, Anthony Beauvillier was there. Tito wrapped an arm around Mat, trying to console him.

“Don’t worry Mat.  We don’t need that snake.”

“D-did s-someone s-say… snake?” Jack Eichel asks, his greatest fear suddenly becoming a reality.

“No snakes!” Sid begins shouting. “Just chickens! And none of you are helping!” 

“Uhh.. Sorry, bud,” Jamie said, “should I just…. shove it in?” 

“Look, I’ll show you how,” Geno said, grabbing a chicken and slicking it up with his cum and some of Brad Marchand’s spit.

“Do I have to lube it up first?” Giroux asked, wondering if he could just get away with causing Sid some pain in this vulnerable state. That wasn’t too harsh, was it? 

“Yeah, get your dick out, G!” Tyler Seguin exclaimed. It was so fun to be around so many good looking dudes with their dicks out. 

“You didn’t get enough of it when we roomed at Worlds, Seggy?” 

“How about you focus on the chickens, Claude?” Jamie snapped. This was supposed to be about Sidney. He couldn’t deal with Tyler’s sluttiness today. 

He couldn’t focus on the chickens, because all of a sudden, Patrick K*ne dropped dead from the ceiling, and the room burst into applause. All the chickens in and out of Sidney’s ass bawked in appreciation.

Toews looked at him sadly.  I always loved his mullet, but he was definitely a mega shit too.  No mullet could ever make up for that, even if it had those beautiful designs shaved in on the sides.  No! Toews couldn’t be thinking like that. He would just need a new mullet lover. Maybe Mat Calvert was single.  Although, he couldn't imagine anyone on the Avalanche not fucking each other. Hell, it was probably one big circle jerk after their games with how beautiful they all were.  Maybe he could try and steal Matthew from Johnny. He could just distract Johnny with some skittles. 

“Be careful with the beaks,” Geno reminds the group, “Sometimes they bite. And we don’t want to harm Sid’s ass. It’s insured for $87.777777777 million dollars.” 

“I make no promises,” Giroux said. Look, Sid broke his wrists, he breaks Sid’s ass, it’s even, right?

“Be nice,” Gritty ordered him with his other-wordly voice. Suddenly, he stripped naked and revealed his monstrosity of a penis. He begins stroking it, anxious to cum so he could participate in the shoving of the chickens.

Victor E. Green squeaked in fear of Gritty’s enormous orange fuzzy dick.  He was on the Stars. They didn’t see dicks like that in Dallas. 

Tyler stared in jealousy at Gritty’s dick. It wasn’t fair that a team mascot could be better endowed than he was. He had thought Jamie would have a bigger dick (He thought he might not just have cow eyes) but that was unfortunately not true. Thankfully, that’s why they got Val back on the team. 

Gritty looked at Claude’s luscious hair and achieved his climax, spurting his teal-colored spunk all over some chickens. He picked them up in his furry hands and shoved 5 chickens into Sidney’s ass at the same time. 

Sidney couldn’t help but moan loudly in pleasure. “Thank you, Gritty,” he said. “You are the only good thing about Philadelphia.” 

“ _ He  _ is?” Claude was offended.  “I’ll make you eat your words, Crosby.” Leave it to being slighted by that fucking asshole to get him to finally set to work at cumming on chickens to lube them up.

Nolan and Travis shared a look with each other as their captain seemed to be going off the deep end.  “Well, if  _ he  _ is...I guess we should?” Patty suggested.

“We are here to shove chickens up asses,” Travis sighed, starting to wiggle out of his pants to just get this over with.

“I might need some help getting out of my pants…”

“Nolan, you’re pathetic.”

The only issue was that all this chicken shoving was getting Victor hot and bothered.  He looked over at Iceburgh, hoping his look would be enough. It was. Iceburgh got out his strap (which just magically came out of nowhere, probably thanks to Nuge the magical witch) and helped Victor with his issue.

Brad Marchand had thought licking the chickens would be enough to lube them up, but his tongue was getting tired and there were feathers in his mouth. He realized he was gonna have to cum on the chickens like everyone else was doing. But they had a game yesterday an his hands were tired. He was gonna need help. “Bergy, would you please help me out with this?” 

“Of course, my love,” Bergy replied, smiling at him sweetly. He was tired too but he could never deny anything to his beloved Rat. 

This was turning into a bigger project than any of them suspected it would be before.  Nuge knew more magic would be needed if they were ever to make it to 87 chickens. He decided to use his magic to get the big guns in… the Russian Mob.  All of a sudden, Alexander Ovechkin, his husband Nicklas Backstrom, their sons, Tom Wilson and Andre Burakovsky, Alexander Radulov, Valeri Nishuckin, Evgeny Kuznetsov, Vladimir Tarasenko, and Ilya Kovalchuk appeared.  But Ily quickly ditched out to go back to Russia because they weren’t about to pay him like New Jersey did.

Tom Wilson grabbed a chicken from the slicked up pile. “Wait! I have to do the next one.” He slowly made his way over to Sidney’s ass… and inserted the 69th chicken. “Nice…” he said. 

In the midst of the chicken shoving, Sid had a revelation.   “WAIT! I want MackDaddy to shove in the last chicken!”

Nuge quickly whipped out his magic wand and brought Nathan MacKinnon to them, but along with Nate Dogg came Tyson Barrie (2.0), Erik Horse Gal Johnson, and Gabriel Landeskog.  They all paused when they saw Gabe because he was such a babe. Behind EJ was his horse, Biznasty.

“EJ… why is there a horse here?” Nuge asked.  He certainly hadn’t wished for a horse too.

“Real Biz was busy with promo codes to show up, but he said to shove a chicken in for him.”

With all the MacDaddy talk tho, Tyler wished the real daddy of his life (Jason Demers) would come.

“Yo, Nuge. Can you bring Demers out here too? Daddy would love this.”

Nuge grinned and cackled as he waved his wand.

Suddenly, Jason Daddy Demers appeared, with Clayton Keller and Dylan Strome. Connor was shocked.  Why would his precious raccoon have come with someone other than himself.

“Stromer! How could you?”

“Sorry, McDumbass, but Daddy was taking me and Clayton out for Dairy Queen…”

“Dairy Queen!” Jamie and Tyson shouted out in unity, only to be shushed by Gabe and Tyler.

“Plus, I missed the guys… not the Yotes, since they never let me play to my potential.”

The guys all patted Stromer on the back.  At least he was flourishing with the Blackhawks, one of the few positives the team had going for them. They were gonna need him now that K*ne was dead. Toews was glad they had Stromer and Kitty on the team, together again.

“Let’s get back to some chicken stuff, babes!” Ovi exclaimed as he grabbed another five chickens and shoved them in one after another.

“They don’t call me Chicken McStuffins for nothing,” Connor said and shoved a couple chickens into Crosby’s ass with determination. 

“Literally no one calls you that, pendejo,” Auston Matthews said. “Watch, I’m about to hit him with the four,” he bragged as he penetrated Sidney with four chickens at once, 

“How many more do we need?” Giroux asked. “I lubed up a bunch of chickens for you, Crosby. Don’t say Philly never did anything for you.” 

“Only… three more..” Sidney gasped, his ass just about bursting from the poultry inside his gluteus maximus. 

“Three?! Nonsense,” Geno said, “We need fifteen more!”

“Alright, pass me a chicken, Chubbs,” Tyler told Jamie who obediently handed him a chicken so he could stuff it into Crosby. He truly loved watching Sidney squirm in pleasure as his hole was filled. Maybe one day he could be one getting stuffed instead of Crosby.  But instead of chickens, it would be 91 golf balls that would have letters on them and spell out his hate for spaghetti and Peter Chiarelli. As he thought that, Taylor Hall magically appeared and gladly shoved a chicken into Sidney’s ass.

“You didn’t bring Nico with you?” Nolan pouted.

Travis glared at him, but then thought of Hischier’s beautiful hair and gorgeous eyebrows and decided he would more than love to share their bed with that fabulous Swiss… Maybe he knew Roman Josi and they could get him in on this too. Although TK wondered if Roman could count considering they all knew he didn’t read.

Unbeknownst to Travis, Nuge was listening in on his thoughts and decided to bring Roman to them, along with Pekka Rinne and his sugar baby, Juuse Saros, as well as Wayne Simmonds. The three of them all shoved in a chicken each.  After Wayne shoved in a chicken, him and Claude embraced. Claude swore he would never let him go again. Gritty would make sure of it. Anything to keep his Claude happy. As it was, Gritty wondered if they could trade Bryce Harper to the Preds.  He didn’t seem very loyal to the Phillies considering his remark about bringing it home to DC, and he said he wished he could play hockey. Gritty could see the entire opportunity before him, everything falling into place as he jerked his furry cock, raring to cum again.  

They finally got up 86 chickens and Sidney was all but bursting open.  The beautiful Bang Bang Letang handed Nate Dogg the final chicken. He raised it dramatically before shoving it in with a finality that brought everyone in the room to climax, painting each other with their cum.

“GAhhhhh!” Sidney moaned as he came, his hole finally stuffed full. He felt as much satisfaction as he did when he raised the Stanley Cup. 

Geno stroked his back softly, “You did so good, baby. I am so proud of you,” he told him. “I am so happy to see your hole filled at last.” 

Everyone clapped, proud of themselves for managing to work with each other despite their differences. They said goodbye and promised to reunite the following week where they would shove 91 golf balls into Tyler’s ass.  Tyler hadn’t shared his desire, but Nuge the mystical witch was happy to share his desire with everyone with his psychic abilities. This was only the beginning of a beautiful tradition.

 

 

 

_ The end . (?) _


End file.
